He scuffled behind the bar and brought out a bottle. ‘Shall your maid be dining as well?’
‘She is out for the evening.’
‘Just the two of us then.’
He was hopeful, I gave him that, and stupid if he thought dinner would lead anywhere else. I grabbed the wine and drank straight from the bottle, hoping the night would soon be over.
I woke to birdsong. My head was stuffy, my mouth dry. I could taste the wine and onions from dinner last night, and as I rolled my head to one side, I caught the smell of tobacco on my hair and remembered David’s pipe, the puckering of his wet lips, the weakness of his hand as I pushed him away. I’d left him around midnight alone beside the wood fire, for he’d barred the door in case anyone had tried to disturb us. I’d left him with a kiss on his cheek and a pound note in his hand and had locked my bedroom door.
Now, all was quiet but for David’s snores coming from a few rooms down the landing. I tiptoed out of bed, found a clean dress from my bag, and readied myself for the day.
The sky outside was cloudier than yesterday; the sun had not managed to break through. As I opened the window, the air was still and a little chill – a better day for travelling.
From my case, I took a silver ring holder and placed it on my pillow for David to find whenever he woke, which I imagined would not be for some hours. Then, silently, I made my way downstairs.
The door was bolted and the iron groaned as I shoved it open; at least I knew Luella had not returned.
The cat found me as I made for the road. It was bright-eyed after a night of hunting and twisted around my legs, manically headbutting my skirts until I gave it a quick pat; I was feeling perkier today. It abandoned me once I was on the road, stalked up to one of the bushes, watched a blackbird scuffle in the undergrowth, and lowered itself on its haunches.
I turned my head before I saw it pounce. I would have no death today. I would have no ugliness, no violence, only happiness. For wasn’t it a lovely day? Luella was gone. The breeze was cool. My ankle no longer ached as it had, only twinged now and again when I stepped too hard. And I would be with Frank before night came, at the docks, about to set sail across the sea.
Yet, as I walked, my mind continued to drift to thoughts of Luella. Where had she disappeared to? I imagined her walking under the moonlight and some old lady peeping from her window and thinking she had seen a ghost gliding along the road. I imagined her bumping into that dreadful man, Paul Meadows, drunk in some ditch somewhere, dragging her in beside him. I imagined her being set upon by a stray dog, being bitten by a cat, being chased by a gang of boys, for there really was no safety in being alone when one was so young and beautiful.
Then I shook my head. It was Luella, after all. She would charm any animal she met and batter any man who tried to overpower her. It was I, alone with a weak ankle, who should be worried about walking in the dawn light.
Above me, a chatter of starlings fluttered against the pale sky. Houses speckled the landscape along the roadside, some big with fields of crops around them, some small and standing like soldiers in terraces. It was a quiet part of the country and sombre at that time of the day. Eerie, even. The sound of my heels on the road echoed around me, and I pulled my shawl a little tighter against my exposed neck.
I walked until the houses disappeared and the hedgerows grew denser. I could not see through the briars and foliage to what was beyond. The smell of the sea, of hay, of manure, only disorientated me further.
Of course I was on the right road, I told myself. There was no other road. But walking with nothing but green all around and white above can leave one feeling rather lost.
I hummed my mother’s tune to fill the silence but kept my ears pricked for any unusual noise. Once, a pigeon flapped over the hedgerow and made me scream. I forced myself to laugh at my nervousness, for if I did not laugh, I would have continued to scream.
With a hand on my racing heart, I pushed on and bizarrely found myself wishing that Luella was with me. Odd company she had been, but company nonetheless. Funny how in only a matter of days I had come to expect to see her beside me wearing that pretty scowl of hers and to hear her thick accent that dropped aitches and elongated vowels.
I wondered again how it would feel to call her daughter. Of course, she was too old to be my daughter. But still I pretended; I played a game in my head and saw her face again, not as that of a stranger, but as one belonging to me. I remembered her hot little hands, and I imagined what it would feel like if her flesh was my own flesh. I recalled patting her arm, the thinness of her cotton dress, the way she shook as she sobbed, and I imagined that I had scooped her into my arms and whispered that everything would be all right until she believed me.
Then the air went from my lungs. I had to lean against a tree for I had not the strength to stand by myself. My cheeks were sopping as tears came thick and fast from my eyes. The more I told myself to stop, to collect myself, to be as bonnie as my namesake, the more I wept.
I placed my outspread fingers on my stomach and imagined it rounded. To have something growing inside me, something that I could have all to myself and love forever, wouldn’t it be magical? But magic didn’t exist.
I thought of the lies that I had told, and how they had poisoned me from within. I could not bear a child. No matter how much I would love and cherish it, I was my mother’s daughter, after all. My heart could not stretch further than myself and silver coins. My body rejected everything else, so it seemed.
In that moment I realised what a burden I must have been to my mother. A lump of flesh stuck to her, reminding her of her shame, of all the lies she had ever told and all the foolish mistakes she had ever made. No wonder she struck me so often and let her husbands do what they wanted with me; I would have treated something I despised in the same way.
How she must have rejoiced when she woke to find me gone! The stolen money would have been a small price to pay for such a big reward. I had thought, these past twelve years, that she had been looking for me to make me pay for my betrayal of her and her husband. How often had I woken in the night, my heart pounding, thinking I heard her footsteps on the other side of the door come to punish me? What a fool I had been. Why would she ever have come looking for me? My disappearance was the thing she most desired.
I sniffed and wiped my face with my sleeves; the mauve silk blotted to violet. Looking around, I saw that my imagination had run away with me. There was only the emptiness of a Somerset road in the early morning, only blue tits and blackbirds and pigeons waking for the day, only clouds mottled grey with long overdue rain. There was nothing and no one to fear, for I was all alone, as I had been forever. As I would be for the rest of my life.
I carried on walking.
Chapter 6
I had travelled perhaps a couple of miles, though it had taken longer than it should have done because of my gentle steps, when there came a rumbling in the distance.
Wheels. Hooves.
I had come to an area where the hedgerows had vanished, and all about me the sky loomed like a cast of steel and made the verdant fields appear murky and dull. I waited, hoping for a coach, and silently thanked God when I saw one coming my way. I thought, what with things having gone so well recently, that I might take up Christianity again, visit a church on Sunday and see how things had changed since I’d last been to a service.
I was thinking this, and what outfit I might wear and whether the soles of my feet would sizzle as I stepped on to hallowed ground, as the stagecoach driver slowed his horses to a walk and came to a stop in front of me.
Poor man. He was thin and old, and I wondered how he had seen his wages diminish over the years. Nevertheless, he smiled and hobbled off his seat to help me with my case, asking as he did so in his shaky voice where I had come from.
‘Strange for a lady like yourself to be walking alone at this hour, miss,’ he said, fixing my case to the roof. He offered me his hand to help me inside the carriage. ‘And where is it you
be heading to?’
‘Ulstone.’
Suddenly I had the most peculiar sensation. It might have been the smell, the tang of carbolic soap and salt that I had never noticed before. It might have been the catch of a yellow flower – a bright colour striking my eye on such a bleak day. It might have been the driver saying I’d have some female company for my journey. It might have been anything, but all of a sudden there was a feeling like a blunt blade scraping over my skin, and I knew, before I looked inside, that Luella was in the carriage.
The driver shut the door. It caught on my crinoline and bowled me inside. I stumbled for a moment, and Luella grasped my arm to steady me, then took it away quickly once I was sorted.
I sat opposite her and said nothing until the driver flicked his reins and the horses walked on. From this height, I could see the grey sea to my left, coming nearer. My time was running out.
‘You didn’t take the money. I can get it from my case. We’ll ask him to stop, shall we?’ I raised my fist ready to bump on the roof, but Luella shook her head. ‘Where have you been all night?’ I scanned her clothes, searching for mud and twigs and hay, but found she was just the same as always: slightly dishevelled, but so that it suited her.
She shrugged and said nothing.
‘I was worried about you.’
She sniggered, and I blushed. What was the point in trying to reason with her? I turned my face to the view. A single seagull flew parallel to us, its wings shaped like a perfect arrowhead, and it let out a sharp, high cry.
‘Did you sleep with the landlord?’
I was not shocked by her bitterness and did not flinch at her acidity. ‘No, I did not.’
‘I saw him coming back, running like a duck and sweating. Where had he been?’
I shrugged.
‘Where did you send him?’
‘That really is none of your business, is it, Luella? Not anymore.’
‘Love is supposed to blind you, ain’t it?’
I clenched my teeth together – another conversation about love. Really, what was wrong with the girl? She was obsessed with it.
‘I have no time for this Luella –’
‘Why, where are you going? Are you getting off soon?’
‘That is not what I meant.’
‘Then you have time to listen. What else will you do?’
I folded my arms and turned away from her, making it clear that she could speak all she liked, but I would do my damnedest to ignore her.
‘I didn’t understand that saying when I were little. I had a nightmare one time about loving my ma and waking up and only seeing darkness, and I thought I best not love her too much. I shied away from her hugs for years, and after a while she stopped trying.’
She sniffed, and dabbed her eyes with her fingers, but I did not try to comfort her.
‘How I wish I’d had them hugs now. You never asked about her, you know. All this time and you’ve never asked about my mother.’
An image flashed in my mind: Mrs Blyth. Luella was the spit of her. She was a beauty, even in black crepe.
I did not like the catch in Luella’s voice. She was on the edge of her emotions, and I thought she might scream like she had last night if she talked too much of family. I could not be doing with the hassle this morning when I was so nearly rid of her. I closed my eyes and pursed my lips, and after a moment I heard Luella rub her sleeve against her face. When she next spoke, she was calm.
‘It’s why people don’t see the betrayal coming, ain’t it? Because they’re blind with love. They can’t see how they’ve been used.’
Though there was no breeze, a chill drenched my body. The skin on my arms was raised in gooseflesh; I shivered and opened my eyes. Luella was staring at me.
‘You will take me to Frank.’
‘That is not what we agreed. You said you would leave if I told you the truth.’
‘Take me to him.’
‘You gave me your word, Luella.’ My voice was rising. I held on to the seat to stop me lunging at her. ‘You want to be free. Go and be free. You promised me you would leave.’
‘Changed my mind.’
‘I am doing this for you!’ My hand flew to my mouth, trying to catch the words before they came out, but it was too late. The driver shouted to ask if everything was all right, and I shouted back that everything was fine.
‘I am doing this to save your soul, Luella.’
‘You should think about your own soul. It’s no good trying to save someone else’s.’
I breathed in deeply, though there was an ache inside me as if she’d kicked me in the gut. ‘I won’t take you, Luella. Go to the police if you like. They’ll never believe you. Shout it at all the people you meet for all I care; they will take you to the asylum before they go knocking on Frank’s door. I refuse to take you to him. You won’t find him.’
She sighed, and the bruises under her eyes showed how tired she was. ‘He is in Ulstone. That is where you are headed, you said so to the coachman. That is where I shall find Frank.’
I cursed under my breath and cursed God too for He had only been playing me; He was never on my side at all.
‘Fine.’ I fell back against my seat, defeated. Outside, the seagull had vanished and the sky was darkening; the storm was near. ‘But you will remember that I tried to save you, Luella. You will remember that.’
‘Stop here, please.’
The coach slowed. ‘Not at Ulstone yet, miss,’ the driver shouted but stopped anyway and came to open the door.
‘I should like the walk.’ I gave him more money than the journey warranted, and his eyes misted a little as he took it and helped me with my case.
‘You too?’ he said. I followed his gaze to find Luella dismounting, clasping her bag near her chest.
‘Want some fresh air,’ she said.
He wasn’t as nice to Luella, who counted out the exact fair and gave not a halfpenny more. He bid me good day and, without a glance at Luella, mounted his seat and continued onwards.
‘You should have stayed on until Ulstone. It will look odd for you to walk with me.’
‘And arrive at Ulstone and find you not there? Hiding from me? I ain’t letting you out my sight again, Bonnie. You’ve got the poison.’
We walked at a distance from each other, Luella stalking several paces behind me. Even so, when we spoke, we did so in whispers, for the land had sprouted clusters of trees and we both thought – so I imagined – that there might be spies behind them.
‘Why are we walking there anyway? The coach drives straight through the place.’
‘Oh yes, we should have just hopped off and shouted our arrival to the whole village. Hello, we’ve come to kill a man – your blacksmith, as it happens!’
‘Mock me, I don’t care.’
‘I mock you because you do not think. You should learn to engage your mind before you open your mouth.’
That, at least, shut her up for a while.
We crept along, keeping to the roadsides and ready to slip into a ditch or under the cover of the trees should anyone come riding past. One time, a cart clattered along, its boards splattered with half-festering fish. The man chewed a piece of straw, oblivious to the stench and to us as we crouched behind a thick tree trunk.
It was partly true, my reason for keeping out of sight: it was because of murder, and not just the one Luella thought would be taking place. I could not be seen as the sole companion of a girl who might be found dead. Besides, I hoped Frank would be gone after reading my note and that both Luella and I could slip away unnoticed as if we’d never been there at all.
Within an hour, Ulstone spread before us. It was a small village made up of one coaching inn and houses of old stone which lined the road that split through its middle. To the west, less than a mile away, the estuary spilled over the horizon, and at low tide, sand seemed to stretch to the end of the earth. To the east, the land was lush and framed by thick woodland where we now waited.
Set at t
he southern tip, a few feet off the roadside in its own patch of ground, was a single-storey brick building. To one side of it, a smithy was attached. The brickwork of the smithy was coarse, and where there might have been a door, there was just an opening, like a gaping mouth, that led inside. Horseshoes were nailed into the wooden frames which kept the building erect, and a hammer had been left carelessly outside.
Though I had never spent a single night within its walls, the place felt like home because Frank lived there. I could see him, hunched in the frame of that smithy, wearing his leather apron, blackened with soot, smiling at me. The image was only in my head of course. Nevertheless, there was a tingling in my chest, an excitement I never lost when I thought of being reunited with Frank, and Luella saw the smile which had spread over my face.
‘This is it.’ She came out from behind the tree and began to stride to the house. I caught her arm and dragged her back.
‘Wait here. I will see if he is there.’
‘I told you, Bonnie, you ain’t leaving my side.’
I thought for a moment of punching her and knocking her out, but I did not have it within me. ‘Stay close and off the road. We’ll go in through the back. Don’t let anyone see you.’
She was like my shadow as we scurried out of the covering of the trees and over the little stretch of field towards the side of the building. I had a sudden urge to laugh, for we must have looked so conspicuous to anyone who might have seen us that our espionage was surely pointless. Nonetheless, we pressed our bodies against the outside wall and tiptoed through some shrubbery until we came to a small, enclosed yard at the rear of the cottage. A heap of twigs lay haphazardly on the ground, a few buckets were filled with green rainwater, and a mangle had rusted from lack of use.
The back door did not fit in its frame, and it gave a shudder as I pushed it open, grating against the floor tiles. The range had not been lit. There was a smell of damp woodsmoke, and when I crept into the front room, I saw that the grate held the ashen corpses of a few thin logs. The place was nothing more than a shell, and without pictures or paintings, rugs or blankets, there was nothing to give it comfort. There was only some wooden furniture and a few hard chairs, and in the bedroom, there was nothing but a single bed stuffed up at one end and a vast wooden chest. A jacket of his hung over one of the posts, and I kicked it under the bed out of sight.
Convenient Women Collection Page 8